Dori's POV
It was 1 am and I still couldn't sleep.
The conversation I had with Mason kept playing over in my head like some broken record.
We're related.
Never would I ever have thought that Mason and I could be related. I didn't believe him at first. But his story made sense. The fact that we share the same eyes colour makes sense. The fact that we're the same age makes sense; why we were the best of friends since kindergarten to grade 2. Why my father hated me because he wanted a boy to take over his gang. How Mason got into the club. Why my mother would never allow him over to play with me. Why so many people wondered why we looked so much alike.
It all made sense.
My mother always told me that I was a mistake. That my father never wanted me but decided not to abort me in hopes of a boy. When they found out my gender, he was upset. But at the same time, he didn't want to get rid of me.
My mother always cried and beat me because I was the reason he cheated on her with another woman the moment he found out my gender. She beat me because the woman got pregnant with a boy, saying that I should've been different. That maybe if I was, he wouldn't have left her.
I never knew the boy. That is, until I started kindergarten. He was my best friend. My only friend. He was there for me when my mom died. He told me that everything would be ok. He made me believe that my life could be better.
Until the day he decided that he should inflict pain on me too.
I didn't know why he did it. I was always a good friend to him. I highly doubt that I did anything to upset him. Even if I did, he would tell me. He always did. We never kept secrets from each other, always told each other how we felt, we were perfect.
He knew how much pain I endured at home. He knew how much they abused me, both mentally and physically and sometimes, my father's friends would have their own way with me when my mom wasn't there. It's not like it would make a difference even if she was.
I stood up and walked over to the mirror, taking my shirt and shorts off, leaving me in only my bra and panty.
The scars that littered my body were horrifying. They were everywhere. They were on my arms, on my chest, my tummy, my thighs, legs, back, feet. I looked at the recent ones on my wrist from the time I tried to commit suicide. They reminded me of when I had brain hypoxia. Luckily, it got better over time. My stuttering got significantly less and I've become better at forming sentences.
And then there was that huge scar at the back of my head from when my mother threw me against the wall the day I brought Mason home to play with me.
"Don't you ever associate yourself with that boy again! Don't bring him to the house and don't talk to him at school you little bitch!" She spat at me.
"But momma-"
Bam!
" I don't give a rats ass about you have to say" she said to me as I fell to the ground, the back of my head pounding from the hard impact I had on the wall. I felt a familiar warm liquid trickling down my back. "I should just leave you here for you to bleed out and die" . Black dots danced around my vision as my eyes fluttered to a close. I heard my mom sigh as I felt her hand rub my forehead. "I'm so sorry baby, I didn't want to have to do this" she whispered. "You just never learn" was the last thing I heard before I slipped into a familiar state of unconsciousness.
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I heard a knock on my door as I laid on my back, spread out like a starfish on my bed. I looked over at my clock and saw that it was only 3:14 am. I sighed.
I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone at the moment. I just needed time to think.
I heard the knock again but ignored it, hoping that whoever it was would just go away.
The knocking turned to pounding a few seconds after I didn't answer. The pounding was really starting to give me a headache. Joy.
I got up from the bed, absolutely frustrated, and opened the door to see Ryder's fist raised in the air as he was about to pound again if I hadn't opened the door.
I started at him, shocked. I didn't expect him to be here this late. I hadn't seen him since we left the club but Micah reassured me that he would be fine. And now here he was standing up in front of me looking...angry?
"W-what's wrong?" I mumbled to him softly as he lowered his hand to his sides. He didn't say anything as he pushed past me and walked into the room. I stood there for a while, surprised at his rude behavior, before shutting the door and turning around to face him.
He was staring out the window with a hard look on his face. His jaw ticked as he clenched and unclenched his fists. He was angry about something. Very angry it seemed.
Just then, the stench of alcohol slapped me in the face. How am I just noticing this?
"H-have you b-been drinking?" I asked, bewildered.
He didn't answer me and continued to stare out the window. The soft moon light shone on his skin beautifully, highlighting his features, making him seem like an angel straight from heaven.
"Ryder?" I said softly. "Say something" I was confused. Why wasn't he talking to me? What's wrong with him?
His eyes snapped over to mine where they stayed for a second then the trailer down to my lips and he stalked over to me, eyes still trained on my mouth and smashed his lips against mine. I almost melted into the kiss but then I immediately tasted the vodka he had been drinking and pushed him away, causing him to stumble a few steps backwards.
"No" I shook my head at him. "You've been drinking" I said as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
His cold steel blue eyes flashed with hurt then anger as he looked in to mine. A few seconds passed before he spoke. "How did your little talk go?" He spat. I detected a slight slur in his speech indicating that he had, indeed, been drinking. "Must have been good seeing as I can't kiss my own girlfriend now"
"You're drunk Ryder"
"That doesn't answer my frickin' question" he snapped back as he took slow strides back towards me.
I was frightened at how he snapped at me and how angry he looked. Was he really still angry that I talked to Mason? Of course not. He couldn't be.
"I-It was fine" I whispered, the tiles suddenly becoming very interesting. He didn't say anything for a while and I looked up to see that he was staring at me with his head tilted to the side, a thousand emotions in his eyes.
"What did you guys talk about?" He drawled looking at me with lazy eyes. The alcohol was taking it's toll on him. Why did he do this to himself? He could barely stand.
I shook my head at him. I couldn't tell him now. Not when he was like this. I wanted him to at least be sober before we had such an important conversation. I wanted him to be able to think rationally before getting upset. He was in not state to hear this news now.
His eyes showed that he was definitely not pleased with the response I gave him. "No?" He asked tauntingly, as if daring me to say it again.
I sighed. "I can't tell you yet" I mumbled, hoping he would understand. I just wanted him to leave. He was drunk and only God knows what he was capable of doing...just like my father. I knew he wouldn't hurt me though, but I didn't want to do anything else to anger him. He wouldn't hurt me but that does not mean that he won't hurt someone else.
"What, are you keeping secrets from me now? To protect him?!" He yelled causing me to flinch. His eyes softened at the action then quickly it was replaced by a hard glare. "Fucking answer me! Do you like him?!"
My head snapped up so fast I almost had a whiplash. "N-n-no! Why would you say that?!"
"Because that's what it seems like. First he comes to you throwing himself at your feet and begging to talk to you and see even though I told you not to, you still went and then I come and try to kiss you and you push me away, now I ask you to tell me what you guys talked about and you say no" he seethed.
"Its just- let's just talk about this tomorrow" I fidgeted with my fingers. "P-please"
An eternity passed before he answered me. "Fine. Fucking fine" he walked past me, stumbling a bit and yanked the door open.
"Please don't do anything stupid Ryder" I pleaded with him before he left. "I promise I'll tell you everything tomorrow"
With that, he left, slamming the door behind him.